


The Prisoner

by Snarktogo



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Also original characters being dickhead, Arguements, Established Relationship, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt Daryl Dixon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Original characters being badasses, Presumed character death, Team Family, Vague descriptions of sexual assault, Violence, Whump, Worried Rick Grimes, but the true badass here is Daryl, everyones worried, idk what else to tag, just a smidge of fluff, more may be added!, worried carl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-07-10 15:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15952445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarktogo/pseuds/Snarktogo
Summary: Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly? - Emily BrontëWhen a run goes wrong and one of their own is presumed dead, the group suffers through the motions. Nobody really wants to believe Daryl Dixon, who's been there from the start, is gone. Rick can't lose his partner, and the group can't lose another friend.Daryl, suddenly alone, injured and almost defenseless, must find his way back to Alexandria. With a bit of help along the way.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Wo! New story! While I've written a couple of TWD stories before, this is the first one I'm actually putting up online. Here's a chapter one summary
> 
> After a small injury puts Daryl on the bench, he's desperate to be "ungrounded" as the group likes to call it. Will Rick be convinced to risk Daryl's injury out in the open?

In the dungeon-crypts idly did I stray,  
Reckless of the lives wasting there away;  
“Draw the ponderous bars! open, Warder stern!”  
He dared not say me nay—the hinges harshly turn.

 

* * *

  
“One a these days man, I’m tellin ya right now, those fuckers gunna drive me up a fuckin’ tree.”

Aaron chuckled as he and Daryl walked down the stairs of his and Erics house. He’d grown quite fond of the redneck while he and his group had stayed in Alexandria, something that probably made the neighbours even more uneasy around Aaron. The fact he was gay and in a loving relationship with a man was bad enough for them, but the fact he had befriended the resident redneck wasn’t boosting his social standing any time soon. Most of the people were okay, it was the apocalypse, not too many people gave a shit about anyone else’s personal lives anymore.

But, there were always those few.

“You sound tense, maybe a walk in the woods would do you well,” Aaron said.

Daryl snorted and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I would be, if officer friendly over there hadn’t banned me from leavin’. Fuckin’ controlling bastard.” Aaron followed Daryl's eyes to where said Office Friendly was currently consulting one of the Alexandrians about guard shifts.

“He’s just looking out for you,” Aaron put a hand on his shoulder, something that was an honour for himself, Daryl hardly let anyone touch him. “That knee needs a couple weeks to be alright again.”

He was right, though Daryl loathed to admit it. Only six days ago, when Daryl had been on a small scouting trip with Jesus he’d ended up falling down a sharp outcrop when he’d gone searching in the woods. They’d been looking for an old farmhouse at the time that one of the older residents had told them about. Mr Evergreen had told them about how he’d go up there in the summer with his older sister when they were young, said it was like a little hidden getaway. The farmhouse itself had owners, an older couple who welcomed the children whenever they came. It was unlikely they were still alive. Inside the house would’ve been valuable supplies, such a couple back up generators, fuel, farming supplies and maybe even some of the animals had survived.

When the two had been making their way through dense forest, with only the vague instructions of Mr Evergreen, the two had found an outcrop dropping down to a small stream. Just like Mr Evergreen had described. Daryl had taken one step out onto the edge of the outcrop, meaning to walk along it and following the stream, when a piece had broken away suddenly and sent him tumbling down through thicket, rocks and dirt down to the water below.

He wasn’t seriously hurt, scraped and banged up sure, but nothing to warrant any worry. But Daryl seemed to be the only one who thought that.

Jesus had freaked out so badly that he’d practically carried Daryl up the steep drop, through the woods and back to the car, paying no attention to his protests and grumbles of “‘m fine”.

It was even worse when Daryl had limped out of the car back in Alexandria, covered in mud, water and bloody scratches. Carol had been on him in a second, calling out to Rick loud enough to wake the dead, which was something they did NOT need.

The rest of the group's reaction was probably the worst, but nothing was as bad as Ricks god damn mother-henning. The leader had gone so pale that Daryl thought he’d keel over any second from a damn heart attack.

When he’d asked Daryl in a shaky voice whether he’d been bitten, Daryl almost wished he’d smacked his head hard enough out there to conk out. Carl was no better when he'd arrived later clinging to Judith in his arms like a lifeline, talking a mile a minute and asking everyone in yelling distance whether Daryl would be okay, what had happened.

They’d rushed him to the med wing, demanding immediate attention, and hovering the whole time. It was only after one of the kind-hearted men who’d attended to him let the others know that, no, his knee wasn’t broken and that, no, he wasn’t about to die any second, that they finally calmed the fuck down.

Daryl was certainly not happy when the man then turned around and prescribed him “Bed rest and no strenuous activity” whatever the hell that meant.

Carl and Rick were the first to "take watch”, or as Daryl liked to call it, fucking smother him.

And now, two days later, it felt like half the town was watching Daryl like a hawk. At this point, it felt like he couldn’t even take a piss alone. Rick knew him too well, knew that at the first opportunity, Daryl would slip under their noses and over the fence. Bung knee or not.

“You're lucky,” Aaron continued, drawing Daryl out of his thoughts, “To have a family that cares about you so much.”

“Yeah,” Daryl glanced back over to where Rick was, balancing Lil’ Asskicker on one hip. “I guess.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey Pookie”

Daryl looked up, holding one hand over his head to block out the sun. Carol stood smiling down at him. He gave an affirming grunt and turned back to what he was doing.

“Still sour about being on bed rest?” Carol questioned, placing her hands on her hips.

“Your not ma fuckin’ babysitter, I know why ya ‘ere,” Daryl mumbled, hands stuck deep under the engine of his bike.

Carol sighed and sat down on the concrete of Aaron and Eric's house beside him “I know you're annoyed,” Daryl snorted “But you know we’re just looking out for you. The last thing we want is you killing yourself out there if your injured and can’t run properly.”

“I can run woman.”

This time it was Carol's turn to snort “If you call that hobbling you’ve been doing lately “running” then sure.”

A comfortable silence enveloped them. Things were always easy with Carol, Daryl found. There was never a tense moment of silence, they were just able to enjoy each others presence. They didn’t need words. Maybe if things had been different, they would’ve ended up together.

“Rick's been looking for you.”

“Yeah well, he knows where ta find me.”

Carol sighed, leaning her head down on his shoulder and stretching her legs out to the side. Daryl let her.

“Is your bike almost ready?” She questioned, attempting to change the subject.

Daryl, who was grateful for the subject change, began to explain in great detail what he was doing and why this piece of junk was pissing him off. It was good for him to have something to focus on, especially since he couldn’t go for his almost daily hunting trips. Carol knew it, Rick knew it, he’s pretty sure Carl knew it swell, but Daryl sometimes despised this small community with its high walls.

Instead of the protection, they were supposed to provide, the sense of security it was supposed to give the people living among them, Alexandria’s walls felt like a cage to Daryl on more than one occasion. They needed this place sure, the whole group deserved someplace safe, somewhere where they knew when their next meal was coming. Judith, Carl and Maggies little one deserved a place to grow up without fear.

If it wasn’t for all those reasons, Daryl would have already left a long time ago. He just couldn’t find it in him to leave his people behind. He’d admit it, he’d gotten soft, attached.

His brother would be giving him hell for it.

Daryl felt a small nudge on his arm, the one reaching for a screwdriver off to the side. He looked down to see a small, uneven and slightly burnt cookie. Carol gave him an appeasing smile.

“A little gift, for our resident grump.”

He couldn’t help it, a small smile crossed his face, “Wha’ happened to yer whole master bakin’ thing you had goin’ on. Ms Suburbia?”

Carol laughed lightly, it was a nice thing to see, Daryl thought “What can I say? I’ve lost a bit of my mojo over the years.” Daryl took a bite of the cookie, making an affirmative hum. Carol continued while she could “Come for a walk with me?”

“What happened ta takin’ it easy?”

“This’ll be the one exception.

Carol stood and put a hand out for Daryl as well, he ignored it and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “Where ya wanna go?” He asked.

“Just around,” Carol replied, walking out of the garage and into the late afternoon sun, knowing Daryl would follow.

The pair walked out of Aaron and Erics front yard and out into the street, Carol led them down the street and around the corner. The whole time talking about something one of the other Alexandrian women had told her. Daryl tried his best to keep up, but seriously.

He nodded to Gabriel as he passed the church, he was out on the steps speaking to an older couple. Was it a Sunday? Gabriel smiled back warmly and the elderly couple waved to Daryl and Carol, not seeming to care about the oil coating the man's arms or how Carol carried a small, almost unnoticeable knife on her hip. People were finally getting used to them it seemed.

“That run that Glenn is doin’ tomorrow, I wanna go too.” Daryl interrupted Carol, swiping the hair out of his eyes.

She looked over at him curiously, “Whys that Pookie?”

Daryl grunted. “We’re kidin’ ourselves if we ain’t collectin’ more medicine, food, hell, even basic things. There are more people comin’, just last week Aaron n I picked up those two stragglers, haven’t seen head or hid of em, I don’t trust em, I especially don’t trust em with two of our own out there with em.”

“Mark and Jason?”

“Ya those two.”

Carol sighed. “I suppose your right, but if your thinking on going on it, you can forget about it.”

He gave her an indignant look, but she didn’t budge. The two had a silent standoff for all of about 20 seconds before a sheriffs hat came bounding around the corner.

“Hey!” Carl yelled out, waving his hand in the air as if they couldn’t hear him from a couple feet away.

Daryl cracked a smile, ignoring Carol's smug silence, knowing that she'd gotten her way. “Hey, kid.”

The boy stood next to them frowning “Ya gotta stop calling me that, I'm not a kid anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” Daryl said, “Run that by ya old man and see what he ‘as ta say.”

Carl let out a small string of mumbled words, the older man smacked him lightly around the ears.

“What was that for!” Carl said indignantly

“For mumbling, yer dad raised ya right, don’t wanna be sound like some dirty redneck anytime soon now do ya?”

Carl frowned “Whatever, I’m looking for Enid, have you guys seen her?”

“No, sorry honey we haven’t. maybe check with Rosita, she’s on watch so she might have seen her walk by.” Carol tapped his cheek, “You stay out of trouble, we don’t need to go scaling over that fence after you at the moment.”

Carl gave a small nod and smiled at the two of them, before giving a quick goodbye and high tailing it to the front gate where Rosita stood sentry.

Carol chuckled and linked her arm through Daryls, beginning their walk again. “He’s Ricks son but he reminds me a lot of someone else these days.”

“Who?” Daryl asked.

“You”.

 

* * *

 

“Now why are you sitting out here all by yourself?”

Daryl sat on the front steps of the home Rick, the kids, Michoone and he shared. He picked at the slightly peeling white paint on the bannister. He turned to see Rick leaning against the door frame of said house, freshly showered and dressed in a blue button up. Even now, after months of being off the road, it was strange to see their leader almost clean shaven and clean.

“Well, since officer friendly n’ his band a stalkers decided ta fuckin ground me like imma kid, I guess I need some sort of fresh air.”

He heard a soft sigh and the sound of his partners boots approaching across the wood. He didn’t look up when Rick sat down beside him, their shoulders touch. The two stayed in amicable silence for a bit, listening to the soft sound of people in their kitchens, cicadas and the wind in the trees.

Rick subtly moved his hand onto small space of wood separating their knees “U’know, I’m not trying to clip ya wings.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s what it looks likes from where I sit.”

“You don’t gotta be like that u’know.”

“Be like what?”

“Difficult.”

Daryl scowled at him and made to stand up, but Rick quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him back, not letting go when Daryl surrendered. he rubbed the rough knuckles, scarred and though from years of using that crossbow. He knew some of the smaller scars running up his palms were from when Daryl was a kid, but he never asked if they were from adventuring in the woods or crawling on glass in some ruined kitchen, a man smelling of alcohol and disease bearing down on him.

Rick tried to believe it wasn’t from the latter.

“Let me go on that run tomorrow.”

Rick looked up front their joint hands in surprise, in eyebrows immediately furrowing and a strong no on the tip of his tongue. Daryl beat him to it “Look, I know what ya gonna say, and I get it, Y'all want ta keep me on ma ass while ma knees dodgy. But it ain’t even that bad, I’m not a kid, and I know how to handle myself. Plus, if I don’t go, it’ll just be Glenn and Denise with those two strangers. Denise can’t fight, we don’t even know ‘em, meaning if they turned and fuckin’ tried ta do anything, it would be Glenn against the two of em. Maggie don’t need that on ‘er mind.”

Rick listened in silence as Daryl finished his short, impassioned speech. He hated himself for even considering it, hated it even more when he thought about the other reaction when they knew he was considering it, but, Daryl had a point.

“We can send someone else with them,” Rick reasoned “Abraham, Michoone, any of them would be up for it.”

“Rick.”

He turned and looked at Daryl, their eyes meeting in a silent communication. Rick knew he lost the battle in that moment.

“Just let me do this, I can’t stay penned up in ‘ere for any longer.”

Rick sighed and rubbed his eyes, his right hand still grasping Daryl's on their knees. He looked up again and smiled lightly, “Okay.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The run goes ahead, several new faces appear
> 
> See the end for notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes, this chapter is about two days later than I planned. I had a friends birthday I completely forgot about, so I had to rush out to get a present on Friday and then attend it on Saturday. So to make up for the late publication, this chapter is over 5000 words long.
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention it last time, but the poetry verses at the start of each chapter are from the poem "The Prisoner" by Emily Brontë, hence the name of the story.

_“Our guests are darkly lodged,” I_ whisper’d _, gazing through_  
 _The vault, whose grated eye showed heaven_ more gray _than blue;_  
 _(This was when glad Spring laughed in awaking pride;)_  
 _“Ay, darkly lodged enough!” returned my sullen guide._

 

* * *

 

The next morning dawned bright and early, light streamed through white blinds and the few birds who stuck around made their presence known. Rick lay awake, as he had for the last hour or so, risen before the sun. He stared up at the ceiling, pristine and white, as though the world hadn’t fallen around them. The anxiety resting in the pit of his stomach had him on edge for the whole of the early morning, he almost felt queasy. Although the growing pit in his gut lessened slightly when Rick turned his head on the pillow. Daryl slept with his back turned to his partner, the slump in his shoulders a welcome sight, at least someone in the bedroom wasn’t tense.

For the hundredth time that morning, Rick wondered if it was truly a good idea to let Daryl go on that run. His injury, no matter how well Daryl played it off, wasn’t as small as he liked to say it was. The hunter walked with a slight limp wherever he went and the first few nights after his fall he’d been restless in bed, tossing and turning all night. Denise had even offered him a pair of crutches the third day and wasn’t that just a spectacular display of how childish the man could be sometimes. He’d taken one look at the crutches and promptly stomped, or as Maggie had called it, hobbled, away from the scene.

“I can hear ya thinkin.”

Rick snapped out of his thoughts to find blue eyes peeking through strands of hair. A good shampoo would probably do Daryl well, he thought. His voice wasn’t scratchy from sleep, his eyes were clear and focused. Daryl was always sleeping with one eye open, no matter how deeply under he seemed.

“Really?” Rick said back, reaching a hand out to rest against where Daryl’s neck met his shoulder. “Didn’t know you were a mind reader.”

“Ya well, itsa skill ya see, knowin how ta read Rick Grimes,” Daryl responded, his eyes closing again.

“Is it now?”

“Yep. Tooka couple years ta perfect it.”

Rick chuckled, his previous worries forgotten in the small moment they had together now, in the quiet of the room, with only the noises of their family from downstairs to assure nothing had happened in the night. Maybe the run wasn’t such a bad idea, maybe, even if Daryl was still adamant to go, Glenn or someone else would convince him otherwise. Maybe he would listen to them.

Rick decided to test his luck one more time, “I still don’t want you on that run.”

Daryl frowned, clearly knowing what Rick was trying, and failing, to do. “I know.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

The former sheriff sighed, turning back over onto his back and staring at the white empty space. He felt Daryl shift beside him, sitting up on the side of the bed. Neither of them moved. The silence that was only moments ago peaceful now felt heavy.

“I can’t stay cooped up in ‘ere any longer,” Daryl started, “These walls, these people, ah just, I need ta be out there. Even if it’s just fer a day, maybe even two. Ain’t gunna find trouble.” The man looked over his shoulder at Rick, Daryl’s gaze piercing in a way that made him feel as though he were transparent.

Glenn would be there, Rick thought to assure himself. Denise would be there, so would the other two guys. He couldn’t let his mind run wild with these types of thoughts before he knew it he would be worrying about Glenn’s safety, about Denise being out there without the proper training the rest of them had. It would be a quick and easy run, a day at best, two at the longest. Just down to a town a few miles out, clear out a couple more houses, check out the large department store, grab anything they could get their hands on.

He’d talked to Deanna just the day before, asking about the surrounding areas that might not have been hit and cleared out. While they didn’t usually go for large shopping centres, this one was different. It was new. It had not even opened before the shit hit the fan, Deanna hadn’t even known when it was opening, and she was a local. It was likely that people would have assumed because it was so new, that it was just an empty building, nothing to be had at inside. But every shelf would have been stocked, ready to go.

Even though the chance of that thought was thin, it was as good as they had at the moment. Winter would be here again soon, their community was just getting bigger. It wasn’t just Alexandria that needed supplies, Hilltop and The Kingdom were in demand as well. If the large mall had already been mostly cleared out, there was still a chance that other, less needed, less important supplies were left behind. Clothing was a big one, even just tools and recreational items, anything to keep up morale, keep people going.

They had to take their chance before winter. This wasn’t Georgia, not only would it be freezing cold, the snow could easily trap them inside for weeks at a time. Rick didn’t have a choice anymore, not with Deanna and the rest of the community breathing down the leader’s neck.

“Okay.” Rick smiled, his stomach felt heavy again, even when Daryl grinned at him and leaned forward, their lips meeting softly. If Rick kissed him a little longer than necessary, Daryl didn’t mention it. Even when the hunter turned towards the ensuite to start getting ready, the gut feeling didn’t disappear.

 

* * *

 

When Daryl stomped down the stairs to the kitchen, bag swung over his shoulder, he already found Michonne waiting for him.

“Mornin sunshine,” She grinned, taking a sip from a coffee mug. She always picked the same one, a large green one decorated with the theme of a nearby forestry. Michonne had found it in one of the rangers kitchens when a group had been sent out to clear it.

“Morin’” Daryl said, and he actually meant it. He was no longer grounded. The fact he would be able to go out there without the whole town breathing down his neck made him feel better than he had all week.

Michonne must have noticed his good mood, an amused smile crossing her face. “What’s got you so chipper?”

“Goin’ on that run with Glenn ‘n Denise.”

The kitchen went strangely silent, just like his bedroom earlier. Daryl glanced up from where he had his head stuck in the fridge to the sound of Michonne carefully placing her mug on the counter. He could usually read people pretty well, however, Michonne's stony expression had him stopping in his tracks.

“What.” Michonne groundout. Her jaw set and her dark eyes practically digging into his soul.

“Spoke ta Rick, said I could go,” Daryl shrugged, taking a bite of the apple he’d grabbed and swinging his backpack back over his shoulder.

“Bribe him more like it,” Michonne said, responding to the glare Daryl gave her with her own, his pink cheeks hindered the intimidating air he was trying to give off. They’d known each other for too long now for Michonne to know that Daryl wasn’t as terrifying as the Alexandrians thought. Unless you got on his wrong side. When he turned away, she continued “No way, no way are you going out there. Not with that leg.”

“Ya not ma mother,” Daryl growled, his hackles raised, ready for a fight.

“Yeah well, I’m more concerned about you getting your ass killed out there! You really think we want them to come back here without you?” Michonne raised her voice, there was no way Rick and Judith hadn’t both heard. Daryl didn’t know if Carl was in the house anymore, he’d taken to leaving early, trying to find his place within the group of teenagers here.

“Well, I’ll just make sure ta come back then huh?” The hunter turned and walked out the front door, making sure to bang it on the way.

Absolutely unbelievable, Michonne thought. She stared at the door Daryl had just left through. There was no way she was letting him get killed out there with that leg. She had to find Rick.

Meanwhile, Daryl had gone down the street, walking towards where the group who was going on the run were meeting. Hardly anyone was even awake yet, there wasn’t really a reason to get up early nowadays, where were you gonna go? What were you gonna do? There were some odd jobs to do around the place, but most of the people around town were inexperienced.

Glenn was already standing next to the two cars that were planned for the trip, a smaller Suzuki and a Toyota Landcruiser. He was talking to Maggie, saying some of their final goodbyes, Jason and Mark, the two guys that were being taken along were off to the side, having their own little conversation. Daryl didn’t really have an opinion about them yet, but he felt like they were dipshits. Just had this inner feeling.

Denise wasn’t there yet, which wasn’t a surprise. She was probably still getting ready.

“Hey,” Maggie called, waving Daryl over with a smile, extracting herself from Glenns embrace and walking over to meet him. She gave him a hug, pulling away but keeping an arm on his shoulder. “What’re you doing up so earlier, thought we prescribed you bed rest.”

“I’m going along with Glenn and Denise,” Daryl said.

“What?” Glenn heard them from over by the car, he walked up to the pair. “Why? How?”

“Talked to Rick.”

“No.” Maggie said, resting her hands on her hips “No way, not with that leg you aren’t.”

“Maggi-”

Glenn sighed “Sorry man, I have to agree with her, it’s not happening.”

“Well ain’t that a shame, ‘m still goin’.” With that, Daryl walked over to the Toyota and threw his bag into the back, as well as his crossbow. “I’m not leaving you ‘n Denise with those two,” He jabbed a thumb to where Mark and Jason were standing.

Glenn and Maggie exchanged a look. A few people were already gathering to see the group off on the run. Carol and Tara were coming out of Denise’s house with her.

“Fine,” Maggie concluded. “But if you don’t come back, I’ll have Rick’s hide. Glenn,” Maggie looked at her husband “If neither of you comes back I swear to God-”

“We’ll be fine,” Glenn reassured her, gently grasping her shoulder.

“Carol and the others won’t be happy.”

 

* * *

 

Maggie had been right, Carol and the others weren’t happy at all. Carol had almost grabbed his ear and dragged him back to the Grime’s house. Tara just frowned quietly along with Sasha and Rosita. They’d eventually made it out the gates with little drama.

The ride was mostly silent, Glenn had chosen to ride with Mark and Jason, meaning Denise had jumped in the Toyota with Daryl. He’d taken the lead with Denise directing with the map. Every once and a while she’d shoot a careful look at his leg, her eyes scanning for anything she found off.

“Ain’t gunna collapse any second if that’s what yer worried ‘bout.” Blushing furiously, Denise snapped her head up to the road again, fiddling with the map. Daryl kept his eyes on the road, the Suzuki was right behind them. The Mall they were heading to was still about an hours drive away, they had been on the road for two hours, it was already coming up to lunchtime. Daryl's mind continued to wander.

Him and Rick… he couldn’t even really remember where it all started. The Prison? Earlier? All he knew was that once Lori died Rick had been, in this pit of despair, of guilt and self-loathing. He’d wandered the bowels of that prison for days. All the while the group had looked after his newborn baby, baby Judith, with her small doe eyes and loud wails. This wasn’t a world for children, especially babies, who didn’t know when to stay quiet, who needed food and love and safety. It wasn’t a world for Carl, who, by the age of 13, looked far older than he should’ve, Beth, who was all soft edges and smiles. Until she turned pale and blood was dripping onto that hospital floor and she was cold and clammy and still and

Daryl couldn’t think like that, couldn’t go down that path again. Not when he needed to focus, needed to keep Denise safe and alive, for the community, for Tara, for him. Needed to make sure Glenn got home to Maggie, and keep those two dipshits alive as well.

“Are you sure your leg is okay?”

Daryl turned to face Denise again, his steel-like grip on the steering wheel tightened. Denise kept glancing at him sheepishly, folding over the corner of the map again and again. When Daryl didn’t look away, Denise continued “I mean, after that fall and all, and the whole fuss Maggie and the others kicked up at the gate. I… I just wanted to, y’know, check in? I’m kinda a doctor...sort of.”

Daryl continued to stare at her, unnerving and piercing. Maybe this is why the other Alexandrians were always so nervous around the redneck, Denise thought, because when he looked at you, it was like he already knew you. What you were thinking, what you were going to do next.

She cleared her throat “Maybe you should look at the road,” Denise tried a small laugh “Wouldn’t want to crash in the apocalypse? Right?”

After another long moment, Daryl snorted and turned back, locking his gaze back onto the road ahead. “It’s fine.” He mumbled, Denise whipped around in surprise, this was one of the first times the whole trip he’d actually spoke to her, other than just before. “It’s sore, ain't cripple.”

“I never said you were,” Denise replied, trying to ease the tension. “I’m not scared of you like everyone else is.”

“Maybe you should be.” He said, something dark in his tone. Daryl knew most of the people in Alexandria barely put up with him, mostly because of the others. Because he’d helped out every once and while, like when he’d brought that deer back when they were low on food. But when he didn’t have anything to offer? He was just a dirty redneck from the backwoods of Georgia.

Denise smiled softly and traced her finger down their path on the map “I don’t think so. I mean don’t get me wrong, your very intimidating but… I bet you're a softy on the inside.”

“What makes ya think that huh?” Daryl asked, surprised. He took the next exit on the highway.

“I’ve seen you with those kids. Both of them. I know you and Rick are… together. But, you're not big and mean with them, or with Glenn or Tara or Carol. Sometimes with Abraham, which I can get, he’s kind of a…”

“Dick?”

Denise laughed softly “Yeah I guess. But my point is, you're not as bad as everyone thinks. At least I don’t think so, and according to Tara.”

Daryl glanced over at Denise’s smiling face. He didn’t really know what to say back. So he decided on nothing, the car falling back into silence, a far more comfortable one than before.

It was about an hour and a half later when Denise piped up again, “Take this next right turn then keep going, it should be on the…. Left-hand side on the road.”

Daryl smoothly turned the car around the corner, watching the Suzuki in the rearview mirror as it followed. He could see Jason driving with Glenn in the passenger, Mark sat in the back. The area around them had overgrown and become dilapidated. The few townhouses and small apartment complexes were grey and modern, the once white bricks had turned an off grey with stains and gardens covering windows. They hadn’t seen a walker yet, maybe because it wasn't very populated, like Alexandria, this was a new development. Several “For Sale” signs sat in the patchy brown grass.

As Daryl followed the road, the landscape changed again, the houses disappeared, replaced by construction sites and bare land, cleared and ready for building. Through the tree line a few more metres down, he could just see the roof of a large building.

“That’ll be it,” Denise said, leaning over the dashboard for a better look. Daryl stuck his hand out the window to signal to the car behind them.

The car park was empty, save for a lone truck and a single car down near a side alley. Litter and tree branches covered the concrete, all the way up to the tall glass doors. The Mall was 3 stories high, with four distinct parts. A sign beside the entrance declared the presence of a Target, Costco, a grocery store and several other smaller businesses.

The clouds threatening them all day finally decided to give way. The heavens opened up, ran splattering the windscreen of the car and leaving fat drops on the concrete. “Don’t see any walk’rs round.” Daryl scanned the area, waiting for some geek to come stumbling up to the chain fence separating the mall from the forest. “Let’s go.”

He parked the car right outside the entrance and jumped out, going around to the back and popping the trunk. He heard the Suzuki come up next to them. Inside the trunk was a couple of empty duffle bags and his own backpack, and crossbow. A rifle sat snuggly in the corner. Denise came up beside him, reaching for one of the bags and hesitating before picking up the rifle.

Daryl raised his brows, “Ya know how ta use that thing?”

Denise looked apprehensive at the gun, running a hand up and down the barrel. She shrugged “Yeah, they taught me a little.”

Daryl closed the trunk with a thump, adjusting the pack over his shoulder and holding his crossbow in front. He checked the mechanisms, the bolts, and reached down to his boot to pull out a small knife. “Hey,” Denise turned and Daryl threw the knife, handle first, into her hands. She caught it, surprised. “Try ta keep it quiet.”

“Hey!” Daryl turned to Glenn walking up behind him, his own backpack on and a small pistol in hand. He had a machete strapped to his hip. Jason and Mark were bringing up the rear, the two looked nervous, Mark clutching his gun a little too tightly. Daryl clapped Glenn on the shoulder as he continued “Trip took longer than expected.”

“Ain’ nothin, still got plenty a time ta get back ‘fore dark if we move fast.”

Glenn snorted “Yeah, not with these two.” He whispered, discretely jabbing a thumb in the direction of the two newcomers. The two shared an amused glance.

“Let’s get goin’” Daryl motioned for Mark, Jason and Denise to bring up the rear as he and Glenn walked up to the glass doors.

Glenn wiped away the dust and dirt covering the glass, peering into the space within. Mark and Jason were assigned to watch their backs, Daryl grudgingly admitted that even though they were pieces of shit, at least they knew their way around a weapon. Daryl glanced over his shoulder, one walker had begun rattling the chain mail fence to their left.

“Think we should have a look at that truck over there too?” Mark asked Daryl hadn’t noticed earlier, but he spoke with a slight British accent.

“Nah, ain’t important now, we’ll get it on the way out,” Daryl answered, handing Glenn a flashlight to shine through the door. “Main focus gotta be the mall, could be some good shit ‘n there.

Mark frowned at that but stayed silent.

Glenn turned the flashlight off and handed it back to Daryl, standing aside so the hunter could have a look. Denise had rubbed away her own spot of dirt and was peering through the space, She could see a map in the centre, inside one of the display cases they always had. There were a set of escalators behind it in, on the left-hand side of the massive hallway was an entrance to the first store. Denise tried to squint to see but couldn’t make out the name.

Glenn sighed and went to the side of the first set of sliding doors. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s opened these doors at least, still, could’ve gotten in through the back maybe. Hand me that crowbar?”

Denise quickly pulled out a crowbar in her duffel, handing it to Glenn with a trembling hand. Glenn took the crowbar in both hands and slid it between the glass and the separator wall. He tugged, one, twice, three times and then a fourth before the door gave way with a groan. Daryl had his crossbow up and aimed inside in a second. Waiting for something to come wandering out of the dark.

When nothing came, Daryl motioned for Jason to help Glenn slide the door open completely. Glenn took the Machete off his hip and stepped through the door onto the smooth tile. Mark and Jason followed, the three spread out quickly, each taking flashlights from their bags and sweeping the area.

“Come’re,” Daryl said, gesturing Denise besides him. “Whatever happ’ns, ya stay right here next ta me. ‘less I get bit, or go down, ya don't move. Got it?” Denise nodded slowly, “N keep that gun up or knife in ya hand.”

The group continued on into the dark of the mall.

 

* * *

 

Maggie was talking to Deanna by the garden, the two planning the new plants to grow during the winter months. Deanna had been having a hard time with everything since her husband and son's death. The weight of all the people relying on her, and the troubles Rick’s group had brought along, had almost had her at breaking point. Maggie had offered her own help many times, building a tentative friendship with the strong-willed woman.

“Where is everyone?”

Carl walked up to the pair standing near the brand new garden plots. He’d spent most of the day with some of the other kids around the small neighbourhood. Enid and Ron were good enough, even though Ron got on his nerves a lot. He was better since his dad had died, probably because he didn’t have to constantly worry about his mum.

Deanna smiled kindly at him “Everyone? I think your Dad’s near the front gate, last time I saw Carol was ne-”

“No, I’m looking for Daryl.”

“Well, then why’d you say, everyone?” Maggie asked, smirking as Carl’s ears went red.

“Well, be… because look that's not the point. I went to Aarons and he wasn’t there, I need to talk to him.”

“You weren’t there to see him and Glenn off then?” Maggie said, pushing a bit of her hair behind an ear, she really needed to get it cut again.

“What’d mean?”

“Daryl went with them last minute.”

Carl stopped dead, “What why?”

Maggie shrugged, “Don’t know what Rick was thinking but he let him go, Michonne and I chewed him out earlier, bet he’s feeling a bit sorry for himself. He’s been in the house worrying all day.”

Carl didn’t say anything else, he looked down at his feet and took a deep breath. “I’m going back to the house.”

Deanna bid him a quick farewell as Carl sprinted off.

 

* * *

 

“There’s gotta be a chemist in here somewhere.” Denise groaned, walking through the third clothes store they’d stopped in since they stepped foot in the mall. It was a complete jackpot, the whole place. There had obviously been some people in there, there were things missing and products knocked off shelves. They’d taken down about six walkers overall. Two were security guards, the others, just random people who’d obviously hidden out there and somehow gotten caught up.

“We’ll take a look at one of the other maps, see if it has one marked there,” Glenn responded, picking through the shoe rack of the small Just Jeans shop.

The only strange thing they’d come across was the already dead bodies of walkers. Sure, they could’ve been taken down at any time, but the blood on the floor was fresh, really fresh. After finding that, they’d been especially careful. Daryl’s nerves still ran ramped, especially when they had to open a new metal grate to each store, the groaning and shifting of steel ringing around the halls, bouncing off the ground. Telling anything and anyone that might be lurking they were there.

Their bags were bulging with supplies after spending just an hour inside. Each person had a list of supplies to prioritise. Glenn and Daryl were on the most important stuff, food, water, tools and medication. Denise had the list of different medicines, bandages and other medical devices they needed. Jason and Mark were in charge of just picking up requests and clothing. Jackets and warmer shirts were at the top of the list, especially for the children in Alexandria.

Daryl himself had tucked a few things away for the others in the group. When he’d handed Glenn one of the small teddy bears he’d found in a toy store with a smile and nudge, he thought the guy might collapse from happiness. It had a small blue bow around its neck and even though it was dusty, it looked brand new. Glenn asked why he’d picked out the blue instead of the pink.

“Got a feeling Asskicker the 2nd's a Glenn Jr”

Glenn had carefully placed the small teddy in his bag, given Daryl’s arm a squeeze and walked deeper into the next store.

Now though, they were walking up the first set of escalators to the second floor. The map had shown a chemist and grocery store down the end of the second floor. They’d collected almost all other requested items, now all that was left were food and medicine.

Denise had followed Daryl’s orders and hadn’t left his side the whole time. She walked surprisingly quietly, hardly speaking, rifle in hand and knife under her belt. Mark and Jason had taken lead, both talking between themselves. Daryl couldn’t see outside and so he couldn’t determine how dark it was. He just hoped that time hadn’t passed too quickly for them in here and that it had only been around an hour or so like it felt. They couldn’t contact Rick or anyone else back in Alexandria, and they’d probably have to stay the night in the mall if it had gotten too late.

“The sooner we get ta that store the better, wanna get outta here ‘fore dark,” Daryl mumbled, hitching his crossbow up higher and scanning the area in front of them with his torch. The only problem with the mall was the fact the lights didn’t work. They only had their torches to see anything around them. Luckily, Glenn had thought ahead and brought one of those big spotlight ones.

When they finally found the two stores they were looking for, they were in luck, they were right next to each other. They could go in, get the stuff and leave straight away. Daryl’s leg had started to ache again, the further they walked, the worst his knee got. He wasn’t gonna be a pussy and admit it, no way in hell, he’d rather get munched on by a goddamn walker than admit his knee was acting up.

“We should split up.”

Everyone’s heads whipped around to face Mark, who, for once during the trip, had made a suggestion.

“No way.” Glenn reprimanded. “I know this place looks empty but who knows what could be here.”

“I agree with Mark,” Jason said.

Glenn crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course you do. But I’m saying no, we’ve got an untrained person with us,” He pointed back at Denise “And an injured one.”

Daryl glared “ain’t injured.”

“Yes, you are,” Glenn responded, turning away from Mark and Jason.

“‘m fine,”

“Okay then, take a lap to that sign and back without limping while you do it.” Glenn pointed, waiting in silence as Daryl didn’t answer, his stormy gaze increasing tenfold.

“We’re wasting time….” Denise whispered. “We should-”

“Lady's right.” Daryl interrupted. “We’ll split up, Glenn ya take Denise to the Chemist, I'll take Thing 1 ‘n Thing 2 ta the food.”

Jason and Mark didn’t look happy about those nicknames, but they didn’t speak up. Glenn stayed silent for a while.

“Fine.” Glenn finally said. “But we meet back here in 45 minutes. If you guys aren’t back here or Denise and I aren’t, come find us.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mark spoke quietly, he and Jason taking off for the grocery store down the way.

Glenn grabbed Daryl's arm before he could walk off after them “Remember what we promised Maggie.”

 

* * *

 

The inside of the grocery store stank to high heavens. They tried to avoid the meat section as well as they could, but the smell carried. Daryl had gone off to get bottles of water from the side area, while Jason and Mark took to the cans and non-perishable food.

He’d stuffed his bag with multiple large bottles of water, and had picked up a 5-litre container as well. After Daryl had searched a few more aisles for some other drinks they could use, he headed back to where he’d left the other two men.

“Y’all got everything?” He asked, coming up behind the two.

“Think so.” Mark smiled. He held up a can of some sort of beans and put it back in the bag, “Jason found a lot of those bars, I think we’re good.”

“Let’s get movin’ then,” Daryl said, turning around and walking towards the front of the store. Suddenly he heard a bang behind him and someone yell, he had just enough time to turn and see a small group of walkers coming up to Jason, to watch Mark scream and hit one over the head. To aim his crossbow, to yell “Run!”. To shoot a single bolt. To watch Jason stumbling back into the line of shelves, trying to aim his gun. The shelf rock slowly back and forth, and then, slowly, slowly tip over a second and a third. To watch the other cans fall with a crash, the shelves crashing down and then

nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to get into it a bit more, it was really weird for me to write "mall" a lot in this chapter since in Australia we just use like "the shops", also i have no idea what clothing stores are over in the USA, so if I used one that isn't there, sorry about that. The next chapter should be up by Wednesday or Thursday. Hopefully, I'll actually stand by this date
> 
> Once again, comments, kudos, all greatly appreciated.


	3. Chapter 2 - Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone, helpless, injured.

_Then, God forgive my youth; forgive my careless tongue;_  
_I scoffed, as the chill chains on the damp flagstones rung:_  
_“Confined in triple walls, art thou so much to fear,_  
_That we must bind thee down and clench thy fetters here?”_

 

* * *

  
_ 5 hours earlier _

“What in fresh hell were you thinking?”

Rick had barely wrapped one of the bathrooms soft white towels around his waist before Michonne was charging through his bathroom door. The group had long ago given up on having complete privacy like in the old world, things like a bit of extra skin weren’t something for alarm anymore. But Rick still clutched the towel a little tighter, closing the shower door behind him.

“A man could use a little privacy y’know,” Rick said, lightheartedly smiling at the woman. He swiped away the moisture collecting on the mirror, rubbing the stubble growing along his chin.

Michonnes scowl grew “Cut the bullshit, you know why I’m bargin’ into your room at eight in the morning.”

He folded his arms and leaned against the sink “No I don’t actually.”

“I cannot believe, that after preaching bed rest for the last week, you’d just let Daryl run off with that leg,” Michonne growled, grabbing the razor Rick had just picked up from his hand in one deft swipe. Ignoring his indignant “hey”, she walked back out of the bathroom and back into the sunny bedroom. Opening the chest of drawers in the corner, she pulled out a pair of jeans and tossed them across the room right into the other man's face. “Get dressed.”

Rick pulled the battered jeans off his face, realising they weren’t even his “Look, he was getting stir crazy and I ju-”

Michonne snorted “Yeah, you ‘just thought’, well whatever he did to bribe you won’t be worth it when he comes back worse for wear.” She turned on her heel and marched to the door “Meet me outside, 10 minutes, I’m sure you can find a better argument for the rest of the group on why you decided to just let his injury slip your mind, especially Carol.”

And with that, she was gone, fuming, worried and stomping down the stairs and out the front door. Leaving Rick seriously considering his decision for the 2nd time that morning.

By the time he finally made it out the door, Michonne was already walking back from the front gate, Maggie next to her. He'd taken far longer than 10 minutes, he'd spent that amount of time staring at himself in the mirror. Lost in thoughts, lost out beyond that wall, following a car that would be heading towards trouble. The cars must have already left by now, Glenn, Denise and Daryl were already out there. Beyond the wall. Beyond protection. Far away from them.

“Good morning,” He chirped, smiling as Maggie and Michonne reached him “Feeling okay?”

Maggie rested a hand softly on top of her barely-there stomach “Morning’s are getting a bit rough, but I’ve heard I’ve had it pretty well so far, Jessie was telling me how she would throw up at the smell of cut grass.” The latest ultrasound she’d received from hilltop had been a blessing. Now, several small frames of a blurry, grey bean-like shape sat in each group's respective house. Glenn had requested for the doctor to print out multiple copies, handing them out to the family with a glint in his eye. Abraham would deny it to his grave, but his eyes were suspiciously wet when Glenn had gently placed the small square in his hands.

“Judy misses her aunt Maggie.” Rick said, “she’s been tryin’ to riggle down the front steps and off next door all morning.” The little girl had been grumpy as well since ‘dare’ hadn’t come in to see her before he went off. Getting her ready for the day had also taken up a good chunk of his time. Now that she didn't one set of tattered clothes, Judith had her favourites. God forbid any of them were dirty, unable to be worn.

Maggie smiled softly “I’ll drop on by later,” she said, the three waved as the Harvelles passed by on their morning walk, responding to the 'good mornings' thrown their way. Maggie frowned when she turned back to face him. “Now, Rick Grimes. You got some serious explaining to do. Why exactly, was Daryl cleared for that run?”

Rick sighed. Off course Michonne had called in the cavalry, she knew that Maggie would back her, Rick should just be thankful the woman hadn’t gotten ahold of Carol. He’d be a dead man walking. “Look,” He began, “We were talking this morning and you know how he gets.”

“Stir crazy?” Michonne interrupted, crossing her arms loosely around her chest.

“Exactly, he needed to get out, he said the leg wasn’t giving him a lot of trouble anymore.” He placed his hands on his hips, one finger playing with the gun securely placed in the halter. It had become somewhat of a nervous habit. The security of a weapon on hand was a welcome one, those few days spent without them when the family had first arrived in Alexandria were wrought with dread. After so much time on the road, the feeling of an empty hand or belt felt unnatural.

Maggie shook her head, turning her gaze to the dirt at their feet. She spoke gently “Rick, you know how he is. He’d lose an arm and wouldn’t complain a bit, that man's got the temperament of a three-year-old as soon as someone with a band-aid comes within 5 feet.”

She had a point, Rick thought. That dark voice was back, whispering all the horrible things that could go wrong on that run into his ear. He just hoped it was wrong. Maggie was still talking.

“..Glenn went out with him, and you and I both know they’ll be watching each other back. But we all know what can happen when a run goes wrong.”

Rick rubbed his eyes, “I know, I know. When they get back, I’ll tie him to the bed if I have ta.”

“I would hope so, but we don't need to hear about whatever you two do in the privacy of the bedroom” Michoone quipped, smirking as a faint blush dusted Rick's neck. “The others will be asking where he is soon, Carol, Tara, the rest of them. He signed up for watch. I’d suggest you let them know. I ran into Carl while I was heading down to the gate, he’s looking for Daryl too.”

Shit. “I’ll tell him, Carol, too,” Rick responded.

 

* * *

 

_Present_

“Oh fuck!”

Mark hadn’t even seen them coming. He’d walked up to the large double stainless steel doors leading to the storeroom beyond, gripped the handle and yanked it open without a second thought. They had hardly come across any of the biters while they were in the store, the few they had seen they’d taken down easily and quickly with one shot of that crossbow Daryl always carried. He and Jason had hardly had to lift a finger.

What could possibly go wrong from having a quick look through the back storeroom? It didn’t look like it had been opened for a while, the cobwebs and dust gathering around the hinges assured him of that fact. So, Mark had pulled open the door, not bothering to lift his weapon or step back. He flipped on his torch and started to scan the inside, he vaguely moved the torch around before stepping forward.

He did not expect a thin, rotting hand to reach out and grab his ankle.

“Jason!” Mark yelped, desperately stumbling back into the aisle, shaking as a swarm of the undead came tumbling out of the dark doorway. Jason, who had been stuffing several cans of sprouts into his bag, fumbled for the gun on his hip. Dropping his bag in haste, he managed to get it out of his holster and aimed at one of the rotting heads. He pulled the trigger.

Mark could hear Daryl yelling something through the blood pumping in his ears. But then, it was like the whole world was tipping the wrong way round. He didn’t even register the shelves beginning to tip around them, too busy digging his knife into the skull of another biter that came lunging at him. He really wished that Jason hadn’t used that gun, whatever else was lurking would be heading their way.

The sound of tin hitting the tiles made Mark turn around, watching as Jason was pushed back into the already rockings shelves, cans falling to the ground in a deafening symphony. Daryl was just getting his crossbow into hand, aiming at the biter gripping Jason, when Mark realised their mistake. His and Jason’s way was blocked, a shelf had already fallen in their path, steel beams and food products piling up on top of each other.

“Shit!” The remaining shelves tipped all the way, knocking into a second and a third set, squashing biters that had quickly surrounded them. Daryl, standing at the end of the aisle, was grappling with another biter, taking an arrow and-

The last shelves came down.

“Mark!” Jason was screaming, pushing a biter off him and grabbing his friend by the hand. “WE’VE GOT TO GO!”

Mark was still staring at the place Dary had been standing, a biter in his arms. Two of the metal shelves had fallen on him. His crossbow lay off to the side, a steady stream of blood was leaking out onto the tiles from beneath the steel. He couldn’t even see his body under the cans and bags. Under the biters, they’d already killed laying on the ground.

Mark turned in a daze, Jason was pulling him out of the aisle and through the rest of the shop, “Wait,” He tried to say “Wait, Daryl he-”

“He’s buried under a bunch of those shelves, he’ll be half eaten by now!” Jason said, dodging the undead that had come around the corner, pushing the duffle he’d picked up back onto his shoulder “And we’ll be too if we don’t leave.”

They rounded the corner of another aisle, Mark shoved a coming walker into a freezer door, he panted, “But he could still be alive, do you really wanna give up a valuable asset!”

“That’s not our problem,” Jason yelled, the ceiling above them was groaning. “Remember what I told you when they picked us up out there? We don’t get involved, we just gotta stay low and wait for the word.”

Mark yanked his gun out of the back of his jeans, aiming at the last biter standing in the doorway of the grocery store, he pulled the trigger, “Fine.”

 

* * *

  
_2 weeks before_

_This had been the fifth scouting trip in a row where Daryl and Aaron hadn’t found anything nor anyone. The empty road ahead of them was a familiar site, and for once in his time at Alexandria, Daryl wished he was back there instead of stuck in this car._

_A cold was sweeping through the town, starting with one of the older men in the community, and increasingly infecting almost everyone else. It wasn’t serious, just an average headache and sore throat, but then Judith had gotten sick._

_The little girl had been giving the entire group hell, and as it was her first time with any type of sniffles, the close-knit family had been paying very close attention. Things like this could easily turn deadly for the very young and the very old. Several times Daryl had woken up in the middle of the night to her wails, carefully extracting himself from Ricks grasps and sneaking down the hallway to her nursery. A few times he’d had to sit there till morning, gently rocking the baby until Carl or Rick had come in to feed her and take over._

_Aaron was humming some song, his fingers tapping the driver's wheel. He seemed to be in pretty good spirits, probably because he wasn’t being woken up every hour of the night._

_“Should head back soon,” Daryl muttered, looking out the window at the trees beyond. Summer was turning to Autumn, the first of the leaves were beginning to fall, a film of brown covered the woods around them. “Ain’t_ gunna _find anything if we haven’t already.”_

_“We’ll take the next exit and circle back east.” Aaron agreed, cruising the car around the next bend, kicking up leaves as they went._

_They drove in silence for a while longer, passing by farmland and decrepit barns. The animals that once roamed the fenced paddocks were long gone, either eaten or set free, wandering the woods. They needed horses again, Daryl thought, the gas wasn’t going to last forever, full tanks were becoming harder to come by. They could start using the horses on runs and recruits, like back at the prison. He knew Maggie was already trying to convince Deanna to start looking for livestock, expanding the farm, maybe even an orchard._

_They turned the next corner onto a back road, the dirt was filled with potholes and small streams from where water had gone unchecked. Daryl was still looking out the window when he felt Aaron begin to slow down._

_Two men sat by the side of an old Hilux. There was a small fire in front of them, at the sound of the approaching car they’d jumped to their feet with guns at the ready. “Think they’re safe?” Aaron whispered, as though the strangers might hear them from the car._

_“Dunno, won’t know till we check ‘em.” Daryl grabbed his bow from the backseat, Aaron brought the car to a stop, leaving a sizable distance between them and the newcomers. They knew the drill; keep a distance, check ‘em, ask the questions, give them info. Decide. They wouldn’t mention Alexandria until after they’d assessed._

_The two men were of average build, though one of them was slightly taller than the other. The taller one had_ light _blonde hair cut short, and dark brown eyes. The shorter one standing next to him was fidgeting with his gun, with hazel eyes and a prematurely balding head of hair. They looked pale and scrawny under the afternoon sun._

_“Greetings!” Aaron smiled, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “We’re not here to hurt you, just put the guns down, we’ll even put our weapons down. Just have a chat.”_

_The strangers glanced at each other, frowning they looked back at Aaron and Daryl, the taller one was eyeing Daryl’s crossbow. “You drop ‘em first.” He said, sounded like a brit, Daryl thought, tucking away the observation._

_Aaron gave Daryl a nod, taking his own gun out of the back of his jeans and setting it on the ground. The men in front of them didn’t need to know that he still had a smaller pistol in the boot of his shoe, as per Ricks suggestion. Daryl laid his crossbow down as well, standing straight and placing a hand on his hip, covertly fiddling with the knife tucked under his vest._

_The strangers seemed to buy their act of submission, placing both their guns down. The shorter of the two stepped forwards and outstretched a hand._

_“Mark,” He shook Aarons hand cautiously, Daryl was surprised by the gesture, it wasn’t as if the apocalypse was a place for pleasantries. “This here’s Jason, my friend.” Mark continued, “you both seem pretty clean for today's standards, got a group?”_

_“Just about ta ask youse the same question,” Daryl grumbled, he kept his eyes on Jason, the tall one. Mark looked to be the friendlier of the two, he readily smiled as Aaron began to ask them some questions. Daryl scanned the small camp they’d set up. The car they had was probably out of gas, the reason they’d stopped in the middle of the road, not exactly a wise decision. They both had backpacks if the pair laying in the dirt next to the makeshift fire pit was anything to go by. Hardly any supplies then, unless there was more in the car._

_Mark was still talking when Daryl turned his attention back to his and Aaron’s conversation “We’ve been by ourselves for a while now,” Mark said, a sombre mood swept over him. “use to have a little setup a couple miles from here but… well, you probably know how it goes. Nothing lasts forever now does it.”_

_“Bloody right,” Jason cut in, scoffing. “Some other group decided they wanted what we had, ran us and the others right out of the old hospital, nothing left but the dead now.”_

_“Hospital?” Aaron questioned, he snuck a glance beside him, “you wouldn’t happen to have any medication or medical supplies would you?”_

_Jason squinted at them “What’s it to you?” the man squared his feet, jonesing for a fight. They both seemed jumpy, Daryl couldn’t figure out whether it was because they were there, or if the strangers were hiding something. How could he and Aaron know whether they were telling the truth about the hospital, about anything they’d said. While he and Jason had been having a staring match, Aaron had asked them all the necessary questions, ‘How many people have you killed and why?’ ‘Got any skills?’ ‘What did you do before all this?’. But that didn't mean anything for Daryl. It never._

_Tara always teased him for it, said he had a sixth sense for sniffing out liar and assholes "Like a sniffer dog, but for dipshits," She'd say. Maybe she was right._

_Daryl rolled his eyes. “Got a community, there’s a sickness goin’ round, sick kids, sick oldies. Could use any meds we find.”_

_Mark considered this for a moment, “A community huh? If we have what you need, do you have room for two more?”_

 

* * *

  
_Present_

Glenn pulled out the list he’d been given by Denise, listing of the various medications. All with long and complicated names. The only thing he’d been able to recognise was paracetamol. Denise had told him to grab any bottles that had those words listed, while she searched the aisle behind him. Glenn had been careful to make sure the store was clear before letting Denise wander off by herself, even if it was only a few metres away.

There wasn’t much else he could cram into his bag, they could only take so much. He’d be sure to mark this place as a sure off supply for the next year, they'd come back for clothes and games. Books and movies. Glenn had seen a DVD and cd store around the corner, what he wouldn’t give for a stereo or even an iPod.

He moved out of the aisle and further into the store, keeping an eye on Denise as he went. The far back wall was covered in small plastic shelves. The thin banners above them named off different makeup brands. NARS, L’Oreal. Maybelline. Glenn smiled. He remembered one trip he’d taken to the mall back in Atlanta with his sister. What felt like a lifetime ago. She’d dragged him to the chemist as soon as they’d arrived and right to the back wall. He spent an hour there having different shades of lipstick, eyeshadow and whatever other samples were available drawn over his hands and arms.

He picked up a small tube of Red lipstick, the label said ‘Colour Sensation’. The price tag on the bottom made him snort. $27 dollars. Glenn placed the lipstick back carefully as if some store assistant would bound over and berate him for messing it up. But there would be no assistant. This shop never saw its opening day.

Denise appeared over his shoulder. She waved a bag of bandages in his face before stuffing them into her backpack. “I think someone's been here before, there was stuff missing from the shelves. Sanitary products, band-aids. I had a look behind the counter, they were missing Flixotide, Asmol and Nucala.” Glenn gave her a perplexed look, she blushed. “Asthma... They treat Asthma, Flixotide and Asmol are different types of puffers, the Nucala is for severe treatment."

Glenn nodded, “Did we need any of that stuff? He asked. “Did anyone in Alexandria need Asmol and Flix… whatever?”  
Denise shook her head and pulled the list from her pocket. “One of the younger kids has asthma, but she has a puffer and it isn’t bad, we already have enough refills. Hey, some of the makeup is missing as well.”

Glenn turned back to the makeup, he tried to spot what she was talking about. Then he noticed. There were a couple of empty slots in the NARS section. “Why take… Mascara and lipgloss in the apocalypse.” Glenn said, perplexed.

“Maybe it’s nice y’know,” Denise answered, “That, ahh that sort of normality, even if it’s something small. A little bit of comfort.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe in a time where you were fighting for your life every day, someone wanted to feel that sense of beauty again, of simplicity. Take them back to before, when they could sit down and paint their face for a night of the town, or a day in the office. He should ask Maggie if she wanted any, Glenn thought, maybe it would be a nice Christmas present.

A bang echoed around the walls of the store.

“What the hell…” Glenn whispered, he whipped around to the front of the store. Another bang came, louder this time, a shout. A crash. He ran past the counter and out into the corridor, it sounded as if it came from the grocery store.

“Glenn!” Denise shouted, running to catch up “Glenn what was that?” They both stood watching the front of the Grocery store. Another bang.

Suddenly, they caught a glimpse of a walker falling in a heap at the end of one food aisle, another one stumbled over it. “Shit.” Glenn pulled out his pistol and grabbed Denise’s arm, pushing her behind him.

Jason came barreling out of the self-checkout area, pulling a disgruntled Mark behind him. He shot at a walker that followed them. Glenn lifted his gun, waiting for Daryl to come out after them.

“Glenn! We gotta go!” Mark yelled, wrenching himself out of Jason's grip and overtaking the taller man. They reached Glenn and Denise in seconds. “We gotta go, a bunch of them came out of a storeroom.”

“Where’s Daryl?” Denise asked, trembling, she gripped her bag tighter and looked over Glenn’s shoulder.

Jason panted, “Gone, we have to get out of here. Now.”

“What do you mean gone?” Glenn questioned, walking forwards, he knew he shouldn’t have agreed to split up. “What you just left him in there!”

Jason grabbed Glenn's arm, tensing up as Glenn turned his gun on him. “All that shelving fell on him and a walker, if he wasn’t crushed he’d be bit, now let’s. go.” Jason tried to pull the younger man after him as he and Mark headed for the escalators down the far hall.

“The fuck dude!” Glenn shouted, “You bastard!” He pulled away and started for the grocery store, several walkers were now pushing past the metal dividers at the cash registers. Jason grabbed him around the middle, Glenn heard a yelp as Mark caught Denise’s arm and tugged her off behind him to the escalators.

He elbowed the man holding him in the stomach. Glenn twisted his gun and jammed his forehead right under Jason's chin. He heard a sickening smack as the man's jaw snapped shut on his tongue. they grappled, almost falling to the tiles. “Fuck!” Jason pulled his own gun and swang right into Glenn's temple, twice.

Glenn slumped.

“Shit,” Jason murmured, holding the full dead weight of Glenn in his arms, the walkers from the grocery store approaching, “Shit.” Glenn's head lolled, a mumble of words escaping from his mouth. Jason lifted one of his arms over his shoulder and held him at the waist. Glenn was heavier than he looked.

Mark was already halfway to the front entrance, pulled a screaming Denise behind him “Shut up woman! You wanna bring every biter in the area down, we've gotta go!” they emerged out into the sun, it was beginning to set in the horizon. Biters had gathered at the chainmail fences, rattling them, snarling. He pulled the woman over to the Toyota and yanked the back door open. Behind him, Jason had made it down the escalators and towards the exit. He was dragging a near unconscious Glenn with him.

“What the hell did you do?” Mark questioned. Jason ignored him, walking up to the side of the car.

“There’s more, coming out of the woodwork like ants,” Jason said, motioning behind him. Mark looked back into the darkness of the store. Jason was right, there were several walkers coming out from behind the escalators. “Must have been a back entrance, or from the top level, gunshots attracted them.”

The woman, Denise, was still shouting “Daryl! You, you, yo-” She was stuttering.

Mark growled, “Shut it, get in.” He shoved her in the back seat, stepping out of the way so Jason could do the same with Glenn. "Look," He spoke to Denise again, "you wanna go back in there and get yourself killed? be my guest." Mark held his arms out wide, gesturing to the entrance of the store. Denise didn't move, quivering in the car seat. Mark walked up to the driver's side door and pushed a button on the side through the window. Childs lock. He looked back to his friend “Now what! We turn up to Alexandria with these two kicking and screaming?”

“Look, we told the truth. He’s a lost cause.” Jason grumbled, “We’re just saving their sorry asses.”

 

* * *

 

Feeling as though a truck had hit him straight on, Daryl groaned quietly. There was a tacky taste in his mouth, his jaw was stiff and his whole body ached something fierce. The weight pressing against his chest felt crushing, he tried taking in a deep breath, immediately regretting it when he felt like hacking up a lung. Dust and asbestos knowing his luck scratched the back of his throat. He opened one eye.

What the fuck happened?

The last thing he remembered….

Some of their group had gone out on a scouting mission, searching for medicine, clothes, anything really. Those two new pricks tagged along, swell as Denise and Glenn. They’d gone into one of the small neighbourhoods to scavenge that goddamn monster of a shopping mall, as soon as Daryl had stepped inside he’d been uneasy. It was a massive concrete cage.

Then… they’d split up, Daryl had agreed to search with what’s a name in the grocery store and then…

Those absolute fucking assholes.  
  
There was nothing above him except steel shelving and what looked to be part of the sterile white ceiling of the building. He turned his head to looked over to the right and came face to face with a rotting jaw. Daryl flinched violently, groaning as the movement pressed his chest harder. The walker was dead, a part of a steel beam sticking out of the temple, blood was leaking out of the body, his nose was assaulted by the smell of rotting flesh. Was this why he hadn’t become walker food while unconscious? The dead walker beside him could have easily masked his scent. Daryl turned his head away from the bleeding decay.

From what he could see by his screwed vision were a pile of shelves a couple feet away, various empty cans and broken glasses laid scattered and dented. There was some foul smelling odour coming from somewhere, not from walkers, more like years old food. Daryl shifted his head slowly, the pounding behind his eyes spiking with the slightest movement. Daryl rolled his neck, wincing when something sharp pricked him, staring through a small gap between one jagged piece of piping from the shelves and the mouldy floor, out towards what he thought was the hallway.

“Jesus Christ,”

About a half a dozen walkers shuffled amongst the undamaged area.

If the group had already left him here, not only had they not killed all the walkers, but more could have come. The shelves falling down would have made enough noise to wake the dead, literally. It wouldn’t have helped that Jason had been popping off shots like no tomorrow. The moron.

It was pretty god damn hard to miss the pile of shelves that must have been stacked on top of him, and while Daryl couldn’t give a rats ass about Bert and Ernie, the fact that Glenn, hell, maybe even Denise woulda left him to rot in some god damn shopping mall was… unlikely.

He hoped so at least.

Right. Game plan.

The end of the aisle was an obvious no-go, the number of walkers stumbling around was too much to tussle with, his side ached something fierce and he didn’t even know where his crossbow was. If he could get the shelf off himself without attracting the attention of the undead, he might just be able to sneak his way out the front entrance and to the chemist. His mind felt clouded like he was searching through fog.

The only other option he had was to try to crawl his way out and fight off the walkers. If he couldn’t, there might be another exit into the rest of the mall, but that chance was slim. The throbbing in his head grew the more he thought, God, he just wanted to sleep. His eyelids felt so heavy, a small trickle of blood had flowed into the corner of his eye, making it even harder to keep them open.

No, no he had to move, he had to get out from under the shelves before a walker noticed him, smelled the fresh, warm blood amongst the rotting food and undead body and came looking. Rick would kill him if he got bit on a simple supply run. Daryl just had to focus on the game plan.

Get out from under the shelf

Get to the chemist

Get the hell out of the store

Piece a cake.

Daryl slowly moved his right hand up, sweeping it against the tile till he couldn't move it any higher. He twitched his fingers, moved his hand up as far as he could and took hold of one of the bars on top of him. He had to figure out how to distract the walkers ambling around the front of the aisle. His knife should still be on his belt if worse come to worse.

He pushed as hard as he could against the weight on top of him, the metal groaned as it shifted against each other. He paused, turning back to the walkers at the end of the aisle. They hadn’t noticed. He pushed again, straining his arms and gritting his teeth as the first shelf moved up and to the side.

As gently as possible, Daryl let his arms drop slowly, lowering the first part of shelving to the ground next to him and onto the dead walker's body. If he could move the second part to his right, where the walkers ambled quietly, he’d have some sort of makeshift barrier between him and the dead. He tried moving his torso, bringing his right leg up to steady himself.  
“Shit.” His knee burned. Like a red hot poker was being jammed under the kneecap and through his flesh. Even still the muscle ached, tremors went through the leg, the adrenaline running through his system was slowly waning. Daryl sat up further, gritting his teeth as he tried to keep his breath steady, the shelf still atop his left leg and side silent and still. The walkers still hadn’t noticed, they seemed to be heading for the meat section. The rotting stench of processed pork and steak a buffet just waiting.

Daryl held one of the beams of the shelf and lifted it. He slid his left leg from underneath and edged over to the side. He gently lowered the shelf to the tiles, ears straining for even the slightest noise he made. He breathed a sigh of relief, slipping his fingers out from underneath the metal.

“Assholes ain’t even take anythang with ‘em,” Daryl whispered to the empty air, the cans they had collected lay strewn across the ground, Daryl's bag lay where he’d dropped it, one of the straps had ripped off. He just needed to find his crossbow and get the hell out of dodge.

As quietly as he could with a bung leg and deteriorating strength, Daryl pushed himself up, flinching as a sharp pain radiated through his chest. He gingerly stepped over one of the shelves, the walker body beneath. He snatched up the bag and swung the one good strap over his shoulder. A low growl made him turn his head. One of the walkers from earlier had finally taken notice, the women's once straw blonde hair hung limp and greasy over her face. Chipped and overgrown fake nails clawed the hair as she stumbled over on unsteady legs, ripped leggings trailed behind her.

Daryl bent down to the knife still in his boot, taking it out and instead slipping in between his belt and jeans. The walker was blocked by the fallen shelves, but that didn’t mean he was safe here. Looking around again, Daryl finally spotted his bow lying under a pile of cans, a few bolts lay next to it. He hastily gathered it up and limped in the opposite direction of the long-dead women. He’d round the shelves and go out some other way.

Each step was agony. The knee that once gave him a little trouble now felt like lead, his heel was dragging. He must have done something worse, torn a muscle, fractured the bone even. The kneecap was popped out of the socket, that was for sure, with the way it was moving under his skin like jelly in a cup. Daryl peeked around the corner of the aisle, the coast was clear. He turned right, staying low, limping, crossbow in hand. Bolt at the ready.

Daryl quickly ducked into another aisle as a walker rounded the far corner. His knee and ribs twinged. He continued down the aisle, passing boxes of chocolate and bags of chips. Several rats scuttled under the shelves, disturbed from their feast of food no one would ever buy. He touched his fingers to the knife he’d stuffed into the side of his pants, easier access than his boot.

The aisle opened up to the line of cash registers, freedom.

Suddenly, a pair of decomposed hands grabbed at his shoulders, the moving corpse had appeared almost out of nowhere from his left. Creeping out from the international foods aisle. He grappled, stumbling back has the full weight of the walker caused his right knee to buckle. It’s gnashing jaws, the black teeth clinked together. He felt it’s spit dripping onto his arm as he grabbed its neck. He dropped his crossbow to the ground with a crash and frantically reached for his knife. The blade slipped under his fingers. The walker's breath made his stomach turn. The noise. He was being too loud.

Daryl finally managed to get the knife steady in his hands, he gripped the walkers neck tighter, his fingers sunk into the grey skin, blood poured onto his hands. With one swipe down, the knife was embedded in the dead man's temple. There was no point in trying to be quiet now. Daryl dropped the body carelessly and picked up his bow again. He ran out the aisle and past the walkers that had gathered after the crash of his crossbow earlier, after the sounds of grunts and growls. He ran through the cash register line and past the open glass doors. He didn’t stop running until his knee finally failed him again, until he had passed the chemist Glenn and Denise had gone to search, until he was around the corridor corner and into a part of the shopping centre the group hadn’t explored.

He wished he would have slowed down, in hindsight, so he could of at least seen the horde of undead gathered below him, on the first level.

When Daryl finally slowed down to a jog, then a stumbling walk and finally stopped altogether. His knee gave out beneath him. He sat on the tile, panting, coughing. He clenched his eyes closed, the throb in his knee was a new kind of misery. A cut on his head was bleeding sluggishly, dripping down his cheek and sticking his long hair to his face. His chest was burning something fierce...

He was on his own. Stranded in a shopping centre left to the dead. Injured, and tired as god damn hell... He had to get out somehow, find the car, find the group, find a-

Down the way, just standing in the middle of the hall, was a small girl.

His mind was starting to play tricks on him. His vision was growing hazy around the edges, was it Sophia’s ghost coming back to haunt him like it used to so often? He paused, trying to steady himself, rocking side to side, sitting on his ass in the middle of a concrete prison. A deathtrap. God, he was really regretting this run now, if he hadn’t banged up his knee, he probably would’ve been able to move out of the way of the shelving in the first place, he wouldn’t feel like throwing up after sprinting through half the 2nd floor.

The hallucination was small and scrawny, with light hair. He couldn't make out any of her features from so far away. The girl stood still as a statue, just staring at him. Then suddenly, she was turning away and running around the corner.

Daryl wouldn’t be able to sit there all day, the walkers behind him would sniff him out. He couldn’t find any of his god damn group, he was pretty sure he was about to pass out. Daryl struggled to push himself up, getting one foot and then the other underneath himself. He wobbled uncertainly, gripping his crossbow in a death hold. When the world had stopped spinning, he took a couple of unsure steps forwards.

He staggered, slowly limping up the corridor and around the right corner, where he’d seen his vision disappear. If he was going crazy, he could choose between either staying where he was and be a sitting duck Or follow whatever he was seeing, forwards.

The hall in front of him ended at a dead end, there were two sets of escalators leading up and down. The shops around him were obviously the smaller, less vital ones. A small child's carousel ride sat in the middle of the tiled corridor. Cobwebs covered the horses neighing faces. Peeking out behind the carousel was the hallucination, a small braid hung down from her head. When she realised he had seen her, she dashed out from behind it and sprinted down to one of the far stores. She lifted up the iron grate covering a shop front and slid cleanly underneath the two-foot gap.

“What the hell,” Daryl groaned, he lumbered down the tiles, the blood still leaking into the corner of his eye. The store the small girl disappeared into was a music store, the glass display showed off several different guitars as well as a small stand of different CDs. He limped over to the glass and pressed one hand to the pane, leaning his weight against it, he peered inside. It was so dark he couldn’t see a thing. Only shadows of shelves and other musical instruments.

The squeal of metal shocked him, he turned away from the window and watched as the iron grate once again lifted, far higher than before. He yelped as a person emerged from the darkness and grabbed his collar, pulling him inside, the grate shutting behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes, it has been about 4 weeks, ready for a story time? aka excuse time?  
> The first weekend of the term holidays my friends and I decided to go skating down at the beach. Me, being the "cool person" that I am, decided to try and grind a rail on my skateboard. What I didn't realise was that my shoelace was undone...
> 
> Long story short, shoelace got caught in wheel mid-grind, I went tumbling down like a sack of potatoes and ended up in the hospital with three fractures in three different fingers on my left arm, which is also broken.
> 
> So I spent my 2 week holidays that were meant to be used swimming at the beach, in bed, banned from doing anything with my left arm, which meant no typing.
> 
> My arm is practically healed, but the fingers are gonna take a while longer, meaning this entire chapter took literal weeks to type with one hand. Anyway, thanks if you read my ramble, feel free to tell me how much you hate me because of how long this chapter took, and have a good spooky season. 
> 
> Leave Kudos, comments, all that jazz


	4. Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm rolls in, Denise panics, the Alexandrians hear some grievous news.

 

The captive raised her face; it was as soft and mild

As sculptured marble saint, or slumbering unwean’d child;

It was so soft and mild, it was so sweet and fair,

Pain could not trace a line, nor grief a shadow there!

 

* * *

 

Denise was terrified, watching through the side window as the car careened out of the mall’s parking lot, swerving to miss the few walkers that had found their way to the entrance of the chainmail fence. The Landcruiser left behind faded into the distance.

 

Her hands shook. Steady hands were supposed to be a trademark of doctors, but how would she know, she’d dropped out. God, she was weak. So weak she couldn’t even fight back. Not like Maggie, or Michonne or Deanna. Not like Tara. 

 

Glenn’s head lolled on her thigh, Jason had shoved him in the back seat, uncaring of the way his legs crumbled at an odd angle. The start of a bruise was blooming on his temple, a small dribble of blood leaked out his mouth. He’d obviously put up a fight, tried to stay there, tried to save, to go back for Daryl. 

 

Denise hadn’t.

 

She’d struggled, but she didn’t fight. Fight hard and long as the rest of these people did. They’d lived and survived and conquered the outside, she’d stayed inside the walls not even daring to imagine the horrors beyond. She’d let herself be pulled out of that deathtrap by the collar of her shirt, like a dog.

 

Her fist clenched against her jeans.

 

There was little she could do now.

 

Storm clouds were gathering on the horizon, the heavens threatening to open. They only had a few more hours till the sun would drop below the tree line and if the storm came quicker, even less. If she tried to make a run for it, jump out of the car and somehow roll as to not break every bone in her body, there would be no point. She didn’t know the way back, the map was in the front seat and what about Glenn? What would she even do after that? Go back to the centre? Crawling with walkers and… Daryl’s dead body.

 

Denise rested a hand gently on Glenn's forehead, smoothing her thumb over the bruise. It would begin to turn a dark purple by the time they got back to Alexandria... if Mark and Jason were still going to Alexandria that is.

 

“Left,” Mark directed, sat in the passenger seat, his feet up on the dash and the map in hand, one dirty finger trailing along a line marked out in red. Jason took the turned sharply, cutting against the edge of the ruined asphalt and careening back in the middle of the road. Denise wondered if he’d always been a terrible driver. Jason glanced back at her in the mirror, their eyes met.

 

“You’re lucky I decided not to leave you there, with the fuss you made.” He grinned lazily, his slight British accent added little to his charisma. “Your precious cargo though, aren’t you doctor.”

 

Denise decided not to dignify him with an answer, her shaking had gone down. She ran a hand through Glenn's hair, using the soft strands to ground herself. He continued to stare at her, glancing done at the road every few seconds.

 

Mark scoffed, “Leave her be Jason, you want to act like a dick and then have to deal with the sheriff after she tattles on us?” He moved around in his seat, twisting his body back to face her, Mark smiled. It was a charming one, the type used when someone was about to deliver news you wouldn’t want to hear. Denise, for the first time, considered what he’d been before. “But you wouldn’t do that right Denise? We saved you back there, and Glenn. I wish it wouldn’t have gone done like that, I like the kid, got some of that Asian spice y’know. The other one, the redneck, he seemed decent enough.”

 

“You left Daryl behind,” Denise responded quietly, trying to keep the shake out of her voice.

 

The man sighed and turned around, placing his feet back up on the dashboard. “You didn’t see that place, he was a goner and there wasn’t anything we could’ve done. I feel terrible, I might not act like it, but I do.” Mark glanced in the mirror at Denise’s face, gauging her reaction “But that’s the way of this world isn’t it? People die. I’m sorry that Rick and the others will have to hear it, but I’m sure you're all used to it by now.”

 

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Denise wasn’t used to it. Back in her perfect bubble, it wasn’t unheard of for people to die while out on supply runs, they’d only lost five people that way though. She’d never seen someone die, before Rick and the others arrived at least. There was a reason she dropped out of medicine, she just didn’t have the stomach and that was still the case. Denise knew that Glenn and the others had lost many of their friends and family, Tara had told her stories. Of a prison far off in Georgia, of an old man on his knees, of a young blonde being carried out of a hospital, far heavier than when she went in. A land of cannibals, a church far off in the woods, a man who Sasha cried over, a beanie. Of an apartment building, a man with an eye patch, a young girl and a pit of mud.

 

There were other stories before Tara had even met what was now her family, she said it wasn’t her place to tell the other ones. Denise knew nothing of those stories, except for small snippets, distant smiles and glazed eyes. Once Maggie had mentioned a farm. She’d secretly hoped Daryl would tell her something, about what he did before, or even after.

 

A loud crack of thunder broke the silence in the car. Jason swore quietly and gripped the wheel. Another one followed soon after, a flash, another. A fat raindrop landed on the windscreen. The storm had come, the heavens had opened. Mark signalled another turn, Jason listened. He rounded a bend, streaking down a road surrounded by tall trees. The wind had picked up, the car shook when another, much closer, flash came.

 

Suddenly, a crash so loud that Denise almost jumped off her seat in fright, shook the ground. The flash so blinding, Jason brought a hand up to his face. Another bang came, a terrible creaking noise. Then nothing. Denise whipped her head around, knowing exactly what that sound was. When she was seven, a storm had swept through her small community, ripping flowers out of garden beds and even pulling up her neighbour's trampoline into the branches of a tree. She’d been woken in the middle of the night to the biggest flash of lightning she’d ever seen, followed by a loud creaking noise and a bang. Denise had leapt out of bed and run to her parent's room, crawling under the covers soon to be followed by her brother. When the family had woken in the morning, they found that the tree across the road had been struck by lightning, an old fig struck and swept over by wind, the tree had fallen into a heap blocking their small street and driveway.

 

Denise turned around, trying not to jostle Glenn and looked out the back window. Past the streaming rain she could just make out the dark shape now laying across the road they’d come down. Jason turned another corner, and the fallen tree was gone.

 

* * *

 

Carl had been in a mood since Daryl, Glenn and the others had left early that morning. Maybe it was the teenage hormones, but his edginess had put the rest of the close-knit family on a knife's point all day. It was already bad enough knowing that two of their own were out there, swell as Denise, who’d managed to worm her way into their hearts with her soft demeanour yet cutting wit, what was even worse was knowing they’d be out there with two complete strangers. Carl had since taken refuge in one of the towers, overlooking the front gate and out to the road.

 

A storm was rolling in over the town. The wind was picking up, whistling through the tree branches. They should be back soon, Rick reasoned, standing out near the front gate of Alexandria. Rosita stood atop the fence, a rifle clutched in her hand. The stiff figure of her back gave away that she was beginning to feel just as anxious as Rick. But there was nothing to worry about, they’d be back soon. There was even the possibility they’d be gone until tomorrow, depending on how plentiful the store really was. There was really nothing to worry about. At all.

 

Nothing.

 

To.

 

Worry.

 

About.

 

Rick craned his head back when he heard footsteps approaching. Abraham, thumbs tucked into his belt, came waltzing up beside the leader. They nodded at each other, a small acknowledgement. A flash of lightning appeared over the tree line, followed by the distant sound of thunder. Rick remembered a story Daryl had once told him, back at the prison after a fierce storm had almost ripped out their garden.

 

_ “Bout seven ‘er so, went outta the woods to get away from Merle an’ the old man. Didn’t even think to check the weather.” _

 

_ Rick smiled, idly tossing a strawberry, one of the few wild ones they’d managed to scavenge, across to the other man. Daryl caught it deftly, rolling it between his fingers. “The great Daryl Dixon not sensing when a storms a brewing?” Rick smirked. _

 

_ Daryl huffed, “Shut it.” He took a bit of the bright red berry, “Anyway, I was out messin' about, I dunno, shooting trees and shit. When outta nowhere it just started raining, like, hammerin’. But I thought, why bother goin’ back, no point, rain ain’t nothin’, so I kept goin’.” _

 

_ A loud crack sounded from out beyond the prison fences, illuminating the pair sitting under one of the grey concrete awnings in the courtyard. The groans of the walkers increased, rattling the chainmail, clawing at the heavy raindrops that fell on their faces. Daryl continued, “Musta been a couple hours by then, almost dark n’ all, couldn’t tell none causa the clouds, by the time I finally gotten sick a being drenched and doin’ nothin’ but walking…” He paused to take another strawberry from Ricks lap, “I didn’t know where in fresh hell I was.” _

 

_ “What’d you do?” Rick questioned, the thought of Daryl, getting lost in the woods was something he’d never thought about. The man was more comfortable covered in dirt and bug bites than any building they’d ever been in. _

 

_ “Freaked out.” _

 

_ He couldn't help it. A laugh bubbled up from Ricks' chest. Daryl turned to him with a look of complete indignation, frowning behind the ever growing fringe. “Whadda you laughing at!” _

 

_ Rick chuckled, “I just can’t imagine you being lost or freaking out.” When Daryl didn’t stop scowling, Rick reached out a hand and rested it lightly on the other man's shoulder. “Toughest son of a bitch I know.” _

 

_ Daryl ducked his head at the compliment, shrugging his shoulders “s’kid, still weren’t really sure how ta track an' all, I was out there for a couple hours ‘fore Merle finally noticed I hadn’t nagged him in a while and came ta get me. Never went out in a storm again though, I’ll tell ya that.” _

 

_ “What would you do now?” Rick asked. _

 

_ “Whaddya mean?” _

 

_ Rick slid his hand off Daryl's shoulder, resting it in between the pair “If ya got lost in the woods while out hunting or somethang.” _

 

_ Daryl laughed, “Wouldn’t happen now. Man, if I ever get ‘lost in the woods’ don’t bother trying ta look fer me. I’m probably already dead.” _

 

A heavy hand clapped Rick on the shoulder, shaking him from his daydream. He craned his head slightly to see Abraham smiling. “Your kid has been in a right mood all day Grimes.” The redhead said, squinting up to the watchtower where a sheriff's hat was just visible.

 

“I know,” Rick responded, putting his hands on his hips and fiddling with the gun holster sat there. He knew exactly why Carl was secluding himself to the watchtower, he was waiting for the cars to come back. He’d ambushed Rick earlier just as he’d been heading to the west side of town, demanding why Daryl had suddenly been sent out without him knowing. Carl hadn’t been happy with Ricks answer. Rick glanced back up to where Rosita was pacing the line of the wall, it was almost time for shift change. “He’ll calm down eventually, just hot-headed sometimes is all.”

 

“Wonder where he got that from huh.” Abraham snorted, crossing his arms and taking a deep breath. The sun had just about set. It was already dark enough to be late evening, the sunset obscured behind the thick cloud cover and flashes of bright light. The few kids that had been hanging around outside were being ushered indoors by parents and guardians, Maggie and Sasha were walking back from the gardens.

 

A single fat raindrop landed by Ricks' feet, soaking into the asphalt. The slow pitter-patter started against the roofs around Abraham and himself. Growing by the minute, momentum picking up, the rain soon began to soak through the blue shirt Rick had thrown on that morning. One of the Alexandrian men was walking towards the far ladder, relieving Rosita from her shift. They clasped hands as they passed at ground level, Rosita handing over the semi-automatic and walking over to the pair standing before the large iron gate.

 

“Why are you two just standing out in the rain?” She asked, peeling off one of her gloves with her teeth.

 

Abraham snorted, “What does it look like? Waiting.” 

 

A yell from above stopped the group. The man who had just taken over Rosita’s shift was signalling to another person on the other side of the gate. Through the thunder and rain beating against the ground, Rick could just hear the rumble of an engine.

 

“Cars back!”

 

They were finally here.

 

The man on the wall shouted for Eugene, who had been standing quietly near the gate mechanism under a small umbrella Tara had brought back for him several weeks ago, as he tended to do, to open the gate. Jumping to action, the gate was slowly pulled open, creaking in the rain. The brightness of the headlights blinded Rick for a second as the car rolled in, soon to be followed by…

 

The other car didn’t appear.

 

That was fine, Rick reasoned, maybe they ran out of gas, or they had to leave it behind for some reason. That was fine. As long as Daryl and Glenn and Denise were fine. The other car missing meant nothing. Cars were left behind all the time. It was fine. He felt a grin slip onto his face, despite the rain beating down on his shoulders.

 

The remaining Suzuki pulled up several feet away from Rick, Rosita and Abraham. The rain was still pelting down. Rick would make sure everyone was fine and pull Daryl inside, a nice warm shower would do them both well. Carl would finally come down from his perch, happy to chirp away about his day and ask how the run had gone. Maybe Daryl had managed to snag him a new comic book, or that chocolate bar Michonne had been asking after.

 

Rick made for the car door, walking purposefully through the rain. They’d need help to unload anything that needed to come inside immediately. He pushed a few wayward curls out of his eyes. A fist was banging against the back seat window, Mark climbed out of the front passenger side.

 

“Rick, look, we had a bit of a-”

 

The back door popped open, Glenn came scrambling out of the backseat like a bat out of hell. Through the gloom and rain that settled among them, Rick saw the blooming purple bruise on the younger man's forehead. He hit the asphalt hard, landing solidly on his side. Shocked, Rick bent down beside him, gripping one of his arms.

 

“Hey, hey calm down,” Rick said, trying to reassure him. Glenn continued to uselessly move around on the cold asphalt. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? The other car?”

 

Denise ran out the other side of the car, turning around and backing away from the car as quickly as possible. Her eyes were solely fixed on Mark’s back, who stood still and silent near Rick and Glenn. Tara, who had been dutifully watching the car pull in from down the road, immediately made for the other woman. Over another loud crack of thunder, the wind still raging against the tin walls, Rick heard the gut-wrenching screams the blonde was letting loose. He glanced beyond his shoulder, aware of the others circling around the ongoing scene, the Alexandrians carefully edging off their front porches, drawn by Denise's screams and the pouring rain and the fact that there was a car missing and that Daryl, Daryl hadn’t come out of that car, Daryl hadn’t come out.

 

“Rick,”

 

He couldn’t hear anything past the pounding of his own heart, helplessly gripping Glenns upper arms. The knees of his jeans were soaking through from the rain and the wet asphalt. Maggie had appeared at some point, gently cupping her husband's cheek, whispering soft questions and reassurances in his ear. Leaving Rick floating, stuck in the limbo of the pouring rain, Denise's screams, Abraham and Rosita and Carol and Gabriel and Aaron all around him, just watching. Because what were they supposed to do. Daryl wasn’t there.

 

A heavy, thick, stone of dread was settling in his stomach. The jolting realization of the situation. One that had happened many times before, back at the prison, even here with Noah. 

 

“Rick!”

 

Daryl wasn’t here. The Toyota wasn’t here. Glenn was hurt, barely staying conscience, kept upright by Maggie's arms and Ricks' hands. And Denise…

 

“Oh god, Rick!”

 

As though surfacing from the ocean, after spending years struggling against the tide, everything came into focus again. Through the jumble of words spouting from Denise’s mouth, where her face had been tucked between Tara’s neck and shoulder, one word shone through.

 

“Rick!”

 

He turned, still crouched on the ground, to face the distraught woman just feet away. Looking past Mark standing awkwardly by the still open front passenger door. Denise pried herself away from Tara’s embrace, her blonde hair had fallen from its usual ponytail and covered her face. The people around them were talking, yelling. But Rick only heard Denise.

 

“They left him!”

 

They left him

They left him

 

They. 

 

Left

 

Him.

 

Like the crashing of waves against rocks, the world came back into focus. The muffled silence that encased Ricks' ears snapped, giving way to the pounding of rain, of Michonne angrily shouting at Jason, who sat inside the cars driver's seat, refusing to move. The woman yanked open the door and pulled Jason out by the scruff of his neck, drawing her katana under his chin. He couldn’t quite hear what she was saying through the storm, which was picking up every second they remained outside.

 

“Oh god, we-we were in the store an- and then something happened!” Denise yelled, looking frantically around at the other inhabitants, “Jason and Mark, they were with him, Daryl. We… we’d split up. They said there were walkers and the- then they came back without him. Rick, Rick I swear, Glenn and I, we tried, we tried we tried we tried.” 

 

The dam broke. With that declaration, Denise had finally released the floodgates. It took no more than 10 seconds for the citizens of Alexandria to fall into an absolute panic. Michoones eyes darkened, she slowly turned back to Jason, still held under the threat of a sharp blade beneath his chin. A strangled cry from Rick's right told him Carol must have joined them, Rosita held her arm as the older woman sank to the dirt. A round of voices surrounded them, Jesus and Aaron, Sasha and Abraham, and Carl. Carl, who stood rooted to the spot at the foot of the watchtower, one trembling hand holding the battered sheriff’s hat.

 

Rick cocked his head, staring up at Mark through his bangs. “You.” His voice was deathly quiet, almost drowned out by the thunder. If the man knew better, he’d already be running for the hills, risking what was behind the walls of the community. Because almost everyone knew that there was nothing more terrifying than Rick Grimes, and when he tilted his head just so.

 

In a flash, Rick was up off his knees and lunging across the asphalt at Mark. A resounding crack echoed through the street when his fist connected with the other man's cheekbone. Before Mark fell, Rick picked him up by the collar of his shirt, yanking him to eye level, leaving him on tiptoes. “Look, man,” Mark was scrambling for words, stuttering and trying to claw at Ricks firm hold “There were biters, and and then, this sh-shelf and the-” 

 

Rick cut him off by slamming him on the ground, pushing his face into the hard ground. Where numbness had once taken hold of his heart, a steady fire was building. They’d left Daryl behind. They’d left him. They’d ki-

 

Rick let go of Mark for just a second, then grabbed his hair and slammed his head against the ground again. He knelt down on the mans back, pressing his knee against his spine. “Where. Is. He!” Rick roared, punctuation each word with a hard knock to Marks temple with his fist. This was it, he’d finally lost it again. In front of everyone. Beating another man senseless. But this wasn’t a man, this was a monster, a monster who had. Who had….

 

“You have to stop.”

 

It was Michonne, standing over his shoulder. She didn't touch him. Rick knew she wasn’t scared to, she never was, just like Daryl never was. But here she was. “Jason.” Rick asked, his voice gravelly, rough from silent tears that he only just now noticed were falling, mixing with the raindrops pattering his face. Time was passing differently, wasn't she just with Jason?

 

“Aaron and Abraham have him, they’re taking him to Deanna.” She responded, coolly looking at the sad and grovelling man at Ricks mercy. Marks blood was leaking onto the asphalt. Michonne shivered, whether from the rain or something else. She took a hard breath and looked away, “Oh God Rick.”

 

Rick hung his head.

 

And the thunder and rain continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, yes, it's been a while. My fingers and arm are fully healed, just in time for the Christmas holidays, meaning I can get back on the skateboard AND the surfboard in time for the 35-degree summer Aussie weather has in store.
> 
> Also, another reason for this chapters lateness, I took November off from fanfiction to write for NANOWRIMO. Which I finished at around 73,000 words! 
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter, which will be from Daryl's pov, should be up in the next 2 - 3 days, since I had a burst of inspiration and wrote about 3,000 words of it already.


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